


rise

by astronomicallie



Series: astronomicallie's inktober 2019 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (i'm paranoid), ... again. listen i'm soft, M/M, Mornings, Post-Canon, p standard spoilers for bl route end, rated t for the vaguest mention of love bites imaginable, who ends up where etc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronomicallie/pseuds/astronomicallie
Summary: “Stop staring at me like that.”Dimitri blinks, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’m afraid I do not know what you mean.”days 6 & 7: husky & enchanted





	rise

**Author's Note:**

> haven't written fraldarddyd yet so let's see how this goes, huh?

The royal chambers are even more ridiculous than Felix could have imagined. From the lush rug, to the rich drapes that block out even the harshest of sunlight, to the massive mirror held over the luxurious wooden dresser, to the multitude of warm covers piled on the four poster bed whose posts climbs all the way up to a heavy canopy. Magnificent. Regal. Completely and utterly unnecessary. He doesn’t understand why a place to _sleep_ must be so… _extravagant_. Would it kill a king, if he didn’t have a rug underfoot whenever he crawled into bed? Would it kill him if his bed didn’t look completely fucking massive?

Would it kill him to have a smaller mirror? Because Felix isn’t in favor of the view he gets in this one.

“Stop staring at me like that.”

Dimitri blinks, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’m afraid I do not know what you mean.”

Felix turns to glare at him, speaking around the hair tie caught between his teeth as his hands pull his hair into something more presentable for the masses. “You know exactly what I mean, Your Majesty,” he says, before turning back around to continue his morning preening. He wraps the tie, pulling it taut, and turns his head this way and that to inspect his work. It’s acceptable. As always. Dimitri continues staring. That’s… tolerable. As always, nowadays.

When he glares at him once more in the mirror, Dimitri laughs, the sound low and rich. “My apologies,” he says, hands raising in surrender. “You look enchanting.”

_That__’s_ the word for that dumb expression on his face. Enchanted. That’s why Felix sees his reflection go bright red, sees its features twist into a scowl. Dimitri looks _enchanted_, like he can’t look away even if he wanted to, and Felix knows for a fact that if there’s anything in this room to be enchanted by, it’s the recently-crowned King of Faerghus, whose decency is only upheld by the covers pooling around his waist. Everything else is scandalous at _best_— the mussed hair, his bare torso, the lazy smile, the… _Gah_. “Stop speaking nonsense,” he snaps. “I haven’t even gotten ready.”

He’s half dressed, scars dancing up his abdomen and down his arms. There are a few new marks too, strategically placed so that they will hide under his clothes, but that’s to be expected. Dimitri must notice his gaze wander to them, because when their eyes meet again in the mirror, the grin Felix finds is dripping with pride.

“You’re still doing it,” he bites out.

“You turn me helpless,” Dimitri replies, simple as breathing.

Felix turns on his heel to address Dimitri fully, arms crossing across his chest. “You should be getting ready too, you know. A king’s duties require that he not keep the world waiting.”

Dimitri hums, shifting on the bed. He twists, stretching, and Felix pointedly keeps his eyes locked on his _face_ and not at all on how his body moves. “And what of an advisor’s duties?” he asks, amused.

Felix’s response comes dryly: “They don’t let the king keep the world waiting.”

Dimitri’s lips purse, mocking thought. “Seems like you’re failing your responsibilities, then.”

“I left bed solely because I knew it’d make you sit up.” Because that’s how they’ve always worked: drawn to each other, caught in orbit no matter how long the rotation. Now that they’ve tied themselves together, _‘til death do us part_, it’s even more pronounced.

“A solid strategy. The archbishop would be proud.”

“She better. But now I have to figure out how to get you walking around.”

“You could always ask me politely.”

“We both know that isn’t going to happen.”

Dimitri laughs again, and Felix feels his lips tug up in response despite how staunchly he tries to avoid it. It’s a sound he never wants to forget, something he wishes he could lock in a jar and keep with him until he loses the ability to hear entirely. He went years— five and then some— without that sound, without even that breathtaking smile. Now that it comes so easily, after everything that they’ve been through, he realizes that even if he saw it every moment of his day, it would never lose its luster. He realizes, far too late, that his mere twitch of his lips has become a solid, warm smile, eyes softening and shoulders easing down.

(He’s glad he turned away from his reflection, because he almost certainly wouldn’t be able to recognize himself in this state.)

“I could always be convinced,” Dimitri says, thoughtful. “You _are_ my advisor. I’ll take into consideration any arguments you may make.”

He sounds innocent enough, but Felix knows better. He sees the twinkle in his eye, the slope of his grin. It’s a relief, for Dimitri to be this open, this ready to tease, yet Felix rolls his eyes instead of saying as much. His feet bring him back to the bed, back into Dimitri’s orbit, a hand reaching to loose his hair tie and send the hair he so tediously put up falling back into waves over his shoulders. Dimitri shifts once more, coming closer to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs over the side in a rustle of sheets. Felix reaches to comb his fingers through spun gold, eyes lazy and evaluating. “I wonder what it would take,” he murmurs, voice low in the space between them, “to keep you from being a lazy ass.”

Dimitri snorts, but his eye darkens a smidge. “I wonder,” he echoes.

Felix leans, drawn in like always, eyes hooded and lips parted. Dimitri, gullible as he is, tilts his head up, eye fluttering shut. Then, Felix pulls away, having successfully pulled Dimitri’s hair out of his face, out of the mange he was famous for during the war. “Now I have to go get a new tie.” He clucks his tongue, meeting Dimitri’s half-hearted ire with a deadpan expression a moment more before he starts snickering.

“You’re cruel,” Dimitri says. “Shouldn’t we comb it out first?”

“No time. Faerghus needs its king this morning.” Felix can’t help his feline grin as he makes to step back.

Dimitri’s arm wraps around his waist, tugging him bodily back to the bedside. Their knees knock together as Dimitri’s other hand raises to trace Felix’s jaw, press up to his ear, urging him down. “Just one,” he murmurs, husky. “Then I’ll get ready.”

“How scandalous, our king already accepting bribery.”

“Only behind closed doors.”

Felix huffs, soft and fond, before giving into the pull and leaning to meet Dimitri halfway.

(It takes four kisses before His Majesty actually leaves bed, but they manage to make into working order quickly enough so that their presences aren’t missed.)

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @astronomicallie, i yell a lot over there!
> 
> i love dimilix, i just have to get more of a handle on dimitri's character (as if i even have one on felix's, lbr--)
> 
> i hope y'all enjoyed this! comments/kudos/etc. are always appreciated, but i'm just grateful that you stopped by. have a nice day!


End file.
